Dark Days
by flowerie
Summary: No one ever paid much attention to little Aurelia Lestrange – and that's why she was the perfect double agent.
1. Chapter 1: Christmas With the Lestranges

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling._

 _A/N: 'Lia' is pronounced the same way you'd pronounce Leah ('Lee-ah')._

\- I -

 _Christmas With the Lestranges_

"Okay, just give me a clue, then."

"No!"

"Can you at least tell me what letter it starts with?"

"I'm not telling you anything! You'll have to wait 'till Christmas like everyone else."

"Lia, _please_!"

"Marlene Elizabeth McKinnon!" I said, pointing a finger at her. "Stop trying to ruin the sanctity of Christmas!"

Marlene settled back into the seat, folding her arms across her chest. "Spoil sport. Party pooper. _Grinch_."

I grinned and grabbed the deck of Exploding Snap cards that were stacked on the seat next to me and threw them all at Marlene.

" _Ow_! Help me! I'm being attacked by a Lestrange! She's using Dark magic!"

"Just give her a clue, Lia," said Olive Honeycutt, who was sitting on Marlene's left. "She'll probably follow you home if you don't."

"But it's only two days 'till Christmas!" I protested. Olive shot me a pointed look over the top of her big, round glasses. " _Fine_. It's blue. There's your clue, McKinnon. Are you happy now?"

"Blue?" murmured Marlene, settling back into the seat of the train.

I shook my head fondly, wondering how I'd ever become friends with this lunatic. I suppose others wondered about that, too. Not just about Marlene, but Olive as well. Why was a Slytherin sitting with two Ravenclaws? Why was a pure-blood Lestrange friends with two witches of mixed blood? Why was a girl whose family was rumoured to be involved in the Dark Arts sitting with a McKinnon when the McKinnons were a prominent family of Aurors and Ministry officials?

I could see why others thought it was strange. But others didn't know that our house had been searched by Aurors _four_ times for Dark artefacts. Four times they'd burst into our house, brandishing a search warrant, and four times they'd found nothing (they were looking in all the wrong places). Others didn't know that we Lestranges were smart, and others didn't know that we had a plan to dispel the Ministry's suspicions.

One facet of that plan was that we had to associate with half-bloods, Muggle-borns and blood traitors. That's why I was allowed to have friends like Olive (half-blood, daughter of a blood traitor) and Marlene (blood traitor). Unfortunately for my family, I didn't believe in pure-blood supremacy. But they didn't know that, and neither did my fellow Slytherins (I'm a good liar).

It'd taken time for me to realise it. I was a bit ashamed to admit that, but it had. I didn't just wake up one morning and realise that the thing my family prided itself most on was complete rubbish. It was Hogwarts that had really opened my eyes for me. How could pure-bloods be better than everyone else when there were Muggle-born witches like Lily Evans who was one of the best in our year? And Olive's dad was a Muggle-born but he was one of the Ministry's best Aurors. It hadn't made any sense to snooty little eleven-year-old me and so I slowly began to question everything my family had ever taught me. Marlene would probably say I was still snooty, though.

"I reckon we're about five minutes away from London," Marlene said, peering through the train window. "I'm so excited for Christmas!"

"It's not going to be much of a holiday for me," I grumbled, "I've got _three_ essays due the first week back."

"Do you think it might snow this Christmas?" Marlene said dreamily. "We haven't had a white Christmas in _so_ long!"

"What's so good about snow, anyway?" Olive said as she used a Levitation Charm to get our trunks down from the overhead rack. "It's just cold and wet."

"Olive, you're starting to absorb Lia's Grinch qualities," Marlene admonished as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross Station.

"I don't have Grinch qualities!" I protested, "I even gave you a clue!"

"Well, out of the three of us, you're the most likely to steal Christmas."

"No way. Olive's the most likely to steal Christmas," I said as we weaved our way through the mass of students that crowded the narrow corridor of the Hogwarts Express. "Have you seen her in the morning? She's definitely Grinch material in the morning."

"I'm not _that_ bad in the morning!" Olive protested.

"Plus, she's half Malfoy," I added. "Remember Lucius Malfoy? He'd definitely steal Christmas if he could."

"That's true," Marlene said as we finally made it out onto the smoke-filled platform. "Oh! I see Mum and Dad! Let's go, Olive!"

Olive was going home with Marlene. I felt a pang of jealousy and resentment then. Dad tolerated my friendship with Olive and Marlene for the sake of keeping the Lestrange name out of trouble. But that tolerance didn't extend to permission to stay over at either of their houses.

"See ya, Lestrange!" Marlene said, throwing her arms around me.

As soon as Marlene let me go, Olive moved in. "Bye, Lia! Make sure you write. _Daily._ "

"I'll send you a letter every hour," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "See you!"

I watched as Marlene's tall, dark-haired figure and Olive's honey coloured curls disappeared into the smog.

My eyes scanned the station, looking for any sign of Mum, Dad, or my brothers. I walked around, wondering if maybe they'd forgotten I was coming home today. Then I spotted Mum standing next to a column, our house-elf Polly beside her. I quickly made my way towards them.

"Hi, Mum!" I grinned.

"How are you, _amore mia_?" she asked, wrapping her arms around me and enveloping me in the scent of the flowery perfume she always wore.

" _Bene. Sopravvivo. E tu?_ " Good. I'm surviving. And you?

" _Bene, bene, tesoro_ ," she replied, sniffling. Mum always got teary at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Where's Dad?" I asked in Italian. My mum's from Italy and we always speak Italian with each other. My brothers Rodolphus and Rabastan could speak a bit of Italian, too, but they'd never been as interested in learning the language as I was.

"He's away."

Away = on business for the Dark Lord.

"And the boys?"

"They went with him," Mum replied. Her expression was very solemn now – she hated the fact that my dad and brothers were Death Eaters. Mum and Dad fought a lot about that. The fights usually ended with my mum threatening to go back to Italy, taking me with her.

"Will they be home for Christmas?"

"They said they would. But I guess we can't know for certain," she sighed. "Could you take us home, please, Polly?"

"Of course, Mistress!" squeaked the elf.

…

We had dinner as soon as we got home and afterwards I sat with Mum in the lounge room while I wrapped my presents. Mum was chatty, but she'd put a Candida Castiglione record on so I knew she was sad - Dad and the boys weren't back yet. Of course I wanted them home, too, but I don't think I could ever be sad enough to want to listen to Candida Castiglione who mainly just wailed in Italian over sad violin music.

"Who's that for?" Mum asked as I carefully placed a set of robes inside a big white box.

"Marlene. She fell in love with these when were out shopping once, but she didn't buy them 'cause she thought they were too expensive," I said as I stroked the soft blue fabric. I placed the matching set of gloves on top and sealed the box.

"What did you get for that other girl – Olive?"

"A necklace with an amethyst pendant. Olive's obsessed with birthstones and crystals and stuff so I thought she might like it. Her birthday's February 7th and amethyst's February's birthstone."

Mum sighed. "I'll tell you the truth, sweetheart. I'm not sure how much longer you'll be allowed to be friends with those girls."

"I know," I said quietly.

I wondered what would come first. Would Dad tell me to stop speaking to them? Would the Slytherins turn on me and label me a blood traitor for associating with them? Or would the Aurors find out that my dad, brothers, sister-in-law, auntie and uncle were all Death Eaters? The Aurors already suspected it, but they had no definitive proof – _yet_. Sooner or later their names would be all over the _Daily Prophet_. How could I look Olive and Marlene in the eyes after that? They probably won't want to have anything to do with me.

I don't really have many friends outside of Olive and Marlene. My only real friend in Slytherin is Zara Shacklebolt – but she's best friends with Clover Flint so I always feel like a third wheel when I spend time with them. Truthfully, I felt like a bit of a third wheel with Olive and Marlene, too – I was the odd one out.

"Have you spoken to Sirius Black recently?" Mum asked suddenly, sipping at her tea.

I flinched at the name. "Of course not. Why?"

"His uncle Alphard passed away suddenly the other day," Mum said sadly, "Apparently, he left everything he had to Sirius. I heard it from Druella Black."

"That's horrible. I remember when we were little he used to idolise his uncle Alphard – he followed him around everywhere."

We sat in silence for a few minutes as I digested the news. I continued wrapping presents, my mind on Sirius Black. I felt awful for him, truly. I decided I'd write to him later – I felt like I had to do _something_ , even though he probably hated me.

"You and Sirius Black used to be attached at the hip when you were kids," Mum said fondly. "You two were inseparable. When it was time to go home you and Sirius would hide and pretend you couldn't hear us calling your names, do you remember?"

"I remember," I mumbled, busying myself with cutting a strip of Spello-tape.

…

There were a lot of things I wanted to say to Sirius Black ( _I miss you. I hate you. How can you act like I don't even exist?_ ). But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I wrote him a short letter that said I was sorry for his loss. He'd probably throw it away as soon as he realised it was from me, but I wrote it anyway.

I made my way out of my bedroom to go and find one of our owls, but I stopped to look at a picture on my wall. It was a photo of Sirius and I. We must have been around nine when it was taken. Sirius Black stood conspiratorially with his hands behind his back, a mischievous smirk lighting up his little face. I was standing next to him – a small, scrawny little thing grinning with a mouth full of crooked teeth. My teeth looked a lot better these days (I'd gotten them fixed) but admittedly I was still quite small and scrawny.

We were best friends once – now when we passed each other at school

his eyes slid over me like I was a part of the wall. But at least that was better than the looks of pure loathing he used to send me back in first and second year. I never admitted it to anyone, but I spent half my childhood with such a crush on him. I even used to secretly write _'Mrs Aurelia Black'_ in the corners of my parchment. It was funny how it all turned out.

I kept watching the photo as it played on a loop. We'd stand there smiling and then we'd twirl these sticks we were holding, pretending they were wands. It was from a game we always used to play called Archer and Savage. In the game, I was Auror Archer and Sirius was Auror Savage and we pretended to hunt an evil wizard called Professor Darkshadow. We used to spend hours running around the garden with our pretend wands, trying to bring down the elusive Professor Darkshadow. But that was a long time ago. And Professor Darkshadow was real now, only he called himself Lord Voldemort these days.

…

I woke up on Christmas Day to the sound of panicked shouts.

It was still dark outside and the clock on my bedside table told me it was half past three in the morning. I quickly climbed out of bed and raced downstairs towards the source of all the shouting – I could make out the voices of my parents and my oldest brother Rodolphus.

In the lounge room Rabastan was lying on the sofa – Mum, Dad and Rodolphus huddled around him. Empty vials of potions littered the expensive rug. Mum was clutching a book full of Healing spells, flipping frantically through the pages.

"What's going on?" I demanded fearfully.

"Oh hi, Lia. Glad you could make the family meeting," Rabastan answered weakly.

I clapped a hand over my mouth as I caught sight of Rabastan. His face and neck was covered in blood. There was a large, deep wound near his temple and blood was pouring from it profusely, glistening in the flickering candlelight.

"Bast, what happened?" I breathed, moving closer. He looked like he would lose consciousness any minute now. Of course Rabastan was making jokes whilst practically bleeding to death – _typical._

"An Auror got me," he replied, wincing as Mum tried another spell to get the wound to stop bleeding.

"It's my fault," Rodolphus said. He was kneeling beside Rabastan, his face buried in his hands. "I should've been watching him. I should've – "

"Never mind that now," Dad said quickly, his head bent over the book Mum was holding. "Lia, get him another Blood-Replenishing Potion."

A normal family would've taken Rabastan to St. Mungo's. But we weren't a normal family and Rabastan had a Dark Mark on his left forearm that would mean a life-long sentence in Azkaban if a Healer caught sight of it.

I gingerly poured the potion into Rabastan's mouth. He was so weak from the blood loss he couldn't lift his arms to do it himself. I couldn't believe how much blood there was. It must be some kind of Dark curse. Maybe a more sinister version of the Cutting Hex.

"Try this one, Vittoria," Dad said, pointing to a page in the book.

Mum breathed in and pressed the tip of her wand to the wound. " _Concresco!_ "

A burgundy coloured light faintly shone above the wound before the bleeding abruptly stopped.

We all breathed out a sigh of relief.

Mum quickly set about wiping away the blood with a damp cloth, tears spilling over her cheeks.

Dad ran a hand over my hair. "Go back to sleep, Lia," he said tiredly.

…

Later that day we opened Christmas presents. It felt like a strange thing to do considering what had transpired only a few hours ago, but Mum insisted.

I was sitting on the floor beside our Christmas tree, surrounded by what looked like a mountain of discarded wrapping paper. I moved to open a large, rather shoddily wrapped box addressed to me.

"That one's from me and Dolphie!" Rabastan called from the sofa. Next to him, Rodolphus bristled at the nickname we always used for him, but didn't say anything. Rabastan still looked a little pale, but it was a big improvement from the bloodied, barely conscious state he was in only a few hours ago.

"The shocking wrapping already gave it away," I grinned.

I tore open the wrapping. It was a cage, like the one you might use to put your owl or your cat in. I didn't have either. Maybe they'd been so wrapped up in Death Eater business they'd forgotten that little fact? I was surprised they'd even remembered something so trivial as getting me a Christmas present in the first place.

"To get part two of the present you have to close your eyes," Rabastan said, grinning.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's going on, Bast?"

"Just close your eyes, Lia!"

" _Fine_ ," I said, sighing. I couldn't believe I was falling for another of Rabastan's tricks. I'd probably open my eyes only to get a Dungbomb to the face or something. I heard the soft _pop_ of a Disapparation and then another _pop_ when whoever had Disapparated returned.

I felt someone put something on my lap.

"All right, you can open your eyes now, Lia!"

I opened my eyes and looked down at my lap.

" _Oh, my God!"_ I squealed excitedly. It was a tiny little pure white kitten.

"She's supposed to be a quarter Kneazle," Rodolphus said, "At least that's what the saleswoman at the Magical Menagerie said, anyway."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I squealed, running over to kiss both Rodolphus and Rabastan on the cheek. "Are you sure I'm allowed to keep her? What did Dad say?"

Rabastan shrugged. "We told him we were getting a cat for you and he seemed fine with it."

I held the kitten close to my chest and gently stroked it's soft, white fur. I'd always wanted a cat, but Dad always used to say it was "unseemly" for a pure-blood witch to be running after a cat. I guess he'd changed his mind. Or maybe he just didn't care about pure-blood decorum anymore because he had bigger things on his mind.

…

I named the cat Pixie.

Pixie was currently nestled in between my feet under the dinner table while I ate Christmas dinner with the rest of my family, including Grandma and Granddad. I hoped Pixie stayed quiet, otherwise Gran would undoubtedly cause a scene about there being a cat at the dinner table which would lead to a long speech about how the youth of today had no respect for propriety or something.

Our dining room was beautifully decorated. The Christmas tree in the corner was groaning under the weight of its ornate baubles and sparkling fairy lights. More fairy lights and Christmas garland had been strung from the ceiling, elaborate candelabras glittered up and down the table, Christmas wreaths adorned the walls and extravagant centrepieces made from holly and pine were interspersed among plates and platters piled high with food. Meanwhile, the mouth-watering scent of succulent roast turkey, gravy, roast vegetables, mince pies, mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, cranberry sauce and ruby-red Elf-made wine hung tantalisingly in the air.

I tucked into my roast turkey, vaguely listening to Grandma as she regaled us all with the latest gossip.

"Of course I don't blame Walburga for being so angry with Alphard, goodness knows I would be, too. But to be stomping around Gringotts, absolutely _screeching_ about the injustice of it all is positively vulgar!" Grandma shook her head, her diamond earrings glittering under the fairy lights. "There's always some kind of scandal with those Blacks. What was the name of that Black girl who married that Mudblood?"

"Andromeda Black? Bella's sister," supplied Dad.

I was secretly glad that my sister-in-law Bellatrix wasn't with us today. She was intimidating, and truthfully, she scared me a little. Most of our interactions consisted of her pinching my cheek and saying " _Little Lia!_ " in a mocking sort of way.

"No no, not Andromeda. The Mudblood was an Auror – Honeycomb, or whatever his name was."

"Honeycutt?" I offered.

"Yes, Honeycutt! That's the one!"

"That was Valeriana Malfoy, not Black, Grandma," I said gently. "She has a daughter in my year, in Ravenclaw. Her name's Olive."

"Hmph! Well, you never see us Lestranges causing a scandal. We're a different sort, aren't we?"

 _I'm a scandal waiting to happen, Grandma_ , I wanted to say.

"We are," Dad said from the head of the table, inclining his goblet of wine towards us.

I pulled a few more roast potatoes onto my plate.

"Valeriana Malfoy, I remember her now," Grandma continued. "She was such a beautiful girl – what a waste." Grandma took a big gulp of wine. "Of course, she wasn't as beautiful as me – let that be known. The beautiful Avis Selwyn, that was me. The prettiest girl at Hogwarts in my time. You know, I once received _six_ invitations to Hogsmeade in one week! _Six_!"

Across the table Rabastan was hiding a smirk by covering his mouth with a napkin.

"Have you ever had six boys ask you to Hogsmeade in one week, Lia?" Grandma asked.

"No, Grandma, I haven't," I said patiently. Rabastan was now coughing loudly to conceal his laughter.

"Hmph. You know why? It's because you're too skinny, Lia. You need to put some meat on those bones, then the boys will come running."

"Thanks for the advice, Grandma," I said, rolling my eyes at Rabastan.

"And what are you smirking at, boy?" Grandma said, turning to Rabastan. "Twenty-three years old and still unmarried," she tutted.

I smirked at Rabastan and shot him a smug look over the top of my goblet of wine.

"Soon, Grandma. I promise," he said.

I rolled my eyes. I knew Rabastan had no intention of getting married any time soon. Rabastan wasn't the settling down type. I couldn't imagine wild, unpredictable Rabastan who found a joke in everything with a wife and kids. In many ways, Rabastan was the polar opposite of Rodolphus, who was serious, thoughtful and dutiful. Rodolphus had gotten married right out of Hogwarts because marrying a pure-blood witch was the respectable thing to do. Rabastan would never do something like that.

"And you, Rodolphus, dear," Grandma continued, "Can I expect a great-grandchild any time soon? Surely you won't let your poor old grandma die without ever seeing her great-grandchildren, will you? Since your brother has seen fit not to marry, it's down to you to – "

Grandma abruptly stopped talking. Everyone stopped what they were doing. All eyes were on Dad, Rodolphus and Rabastan who wore similar grimaces of pain. Rabastan was gripping his left forearm.

"Let's go," Dad said, "quickly."

In an instant, the three of them had Disapparated. Across the table, Mum's tear-filled eyes glistened under the fairy lights.

…

At half past two in the morning I was wide-awake eating biscuits in the kitchen. I couldn't sleep. I had no idea why I felt so restless, but it was a bad time to be staying up so late – I had to be up early to catch the Express back to Hogwarts in a few hours.

I made to reach for another biscuit, but my hand stopped in mid air when I heard the unmistakeable sound of two Apparitions in the hallway.

"I don't agree with it," I heard Rodolphus say.

"How can you question the Dark Lord?" snapped Rabastan.

"I don't believe we should be spilling magical blood! It's a waste! The McKinnons are an old family, surely they can be persuaded…they can be made to _see_ …"

My ears pricked at the mention of the McKinnons. I hardly breathed as I strained to hear the rest of the conversation.

Rabastan scoffed. "You think the Dark Lord hasn't already tried? The McKinnons are blood-traitors through and through! On March 31st it ends, and there'll be one less blood-traitor family in our way."

…

 _A/N: Disclaimer number 2: I don't speak Italian so sorry if I got anything wrong :S If you do speak it feel free to correct me! Anyway. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think so far! x_


	2. Chapter 2: The Messenger

**Re-cap:** Lia goes back home for the Christmas holidays. There's a lot of tension in the house and Lia finds out Sirius's uncle Alphard has passed away. She sends him a letter to tell him she's sorry for his loss which leads her to reminisce about her childhood best friend. On the night before she's due back at Hogwarts Lia overhears her brothers talking and learns of Lord Voldemort's plan to kill the entire McKinnon family.

* * *

\- II -

 _The Messenger_

I ran a brush through my long, blonde hair. I separated the top section of my hair and tied it off with a ribbon. I smoothed down the front of my blouse, readjusted the watch on my left wrist and tightened the green and silver tie around my collar.

I examined myself in the mirror. _Do I look normal? Do I look like I overheard that Lord Voldemort plans to kill every last McKinnon? Do I look like I'm torn between saving my friend's life and betraying my family?_

…

"So. What's the plan for this term, then?" asked Rabastan Lestrange, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Show up your own grandma and get seven invitations to Hogsmeade in one week?"

I just about managed a weak smile in response.

Rabastan fixed a discerning gaze on me. Everyone always remarked on how we Lestranges all seemed to have the exact same eye colour – a bright, sky blue. But my brother's eyes looked different to me now. In them I saw a coldness and a cruelness I'd never noticed before.

"Everything all right, sis?" he asked, nudging me gently.

"Yeah I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired," I said, and it wasn't even a lie. I _was_ tired, but it was because I'd been up all night thinking about how my own brothers plan to murder one of my best friends.

On March thirty-first Marlene's dad, Thomas McKinnon, was turning fifty. I knew this because on March thirty-first, the McKinnons were having a party to celebrate Thomas McKinnon's birthday and I had the invitation to this party in my trunk. The McKinnons have been planning it for months. The whole McKinnon family would be there, as well as other relatives, friends and colleagues. _Marlene_ would be there.

Rabastan put a hand on my shoulder and it took all my willpower not to shrug it off in disgust.

"You better get on that train before it goes," Rabastan said, looking at his watch.

I glanced at the scarlet steam engine and the steady stream of students jostling each other as they clambered onto the train. I made no move towards the train and instead busied myself with checking the latch on Pixie's cage.

I was purposefully delaying getting on the train. I was trying to avoid Olive and Marlene. I couldn't let Marlene see me. Not until I figured out exactly what I was going to do. If I took one look at Marlene I didn't trust myself not to immediately blurt out everything I knew.

Rabastan sighed. "I wish I was going back. I miss that place."

"Bet you don't miss your N.E. though, do you?" I said, stalling.

"Dolphie probably does," Rabastan said.

"I should've asked him for some study tips before he left. Weirdo's probably still got his study notes somewhere."

Rabastan laughed. "You can owl him when he gets back from Wales next week."

What was Rodolphus doing in Wales, I wanted to ask. Was Dad there, too? They'd both left early yesterday morning. On _business_? Mum had taken a Portkey to Italy this morning, so only Rabastan was available to take me to the station. I secretly hoped Mum stayed in Italy until I got back home for the Easter holidays. She was always so sad these days, but being with her family in Italy always made her happier. And in Italy she'd be far away from dark lords and battles for pure-blood supremacy. Unlike me.

Rabastan looked at his watch again. "That train's leaving any minute now."

" _Fine_ ,I'll get on the bloody train. Didn't realise you wanted to get rid of your only sister that badly."

We quickly said our good-byes. I stepped onto the train and when the doors closed behind me I didn't look back at my brother.

…

I managed to find myself an empty compartment all the way at the back of the train. I hoped Marlene and Olive would assume I was sitting with the Slytherins and wouldn't come looking for me.

I Levitated my trunk up to the overhead rack and let Pixie out of her cage. I sat down and Pixie nestled herself onto my lap. I watched absently as the train began speeding out of London, gently running a hand over Pixie's fur.

 _Okay_ , I said to myself, _what do I know?_

The Dark Lord is planning an attack against the McKinnons on the thirty-first of March during the Easter holidays. _"There'll be one less blood traitor family in our way,"_ Rabastan had said, his voice dripping with hatred and contempt. The Dark Lord wanted to kill every last McKinnon – and probably any other party guest that got in their way. The McKinnons were a big family, full of celebrated Aurors and famed Ministry officials so, most likely, all of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters would have to be in attendance if he were to accomplish such a task. Maybe the Dark Lord himself would join in the attack.

I imagined Marlene backed into a corner in the lounge room of her big house, a wand pointed at her, surrounded by the fallen bodies of her family.

I put my head in my hands.

 _What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_

I took a deep breath in and used the sleeves of my robe to wipe away the tears that had spilled over my cheeks. I couldn't tell Marlene. If I did, it would be obvious where I got the information from and it could be the damning piece of evidence that could send my brothers or my dad to Azkaban. It could also be the damning piece of evidence that would send Lord Voldemort after me. That thought was so terrifying to me that I refused to even think about it.

For a brief second I entertained the idea that maybe I could convince Marlene that I'd overheard the information in the common room or something, but I quickly brushed that idea aside. Marlene wasn't stupid; she'd figure it out. And if Marlene thought she had evidence on the identity of a Death Eater she'd go to an Auror immediately. She wouldn't keep a secret like that for my sake.

My next idea was to somehow get an anonymous message to Marlene. Maybe slip a note into her backpack when she wasn't looking. But I quickly realised that wouldn't work, either. Firstly, Marlene would recognise my handwriting. And even if she didn't, she'd be able to put two and two together and figure out who the note was from. Who else inside Hogwarts Castle has connections to Death Eaters and would look out for the safety of the McKinnon family?

And even if Marlene, one of the smartest students in our year, somehow didn't figure it out it still wouldn't work. Marlene would have to send a letter home with the warning to cancel the party and hide. But obviously the McKinnons were being watched by Death Eaters. How else would they have gotten the date of Thomas McKinnon's birthday party? How else would they plan an attack against one of wizarding Britain's most prominent families? It would be so easy for them to intercept a letter. They were probably watching the Floo network, too.

So I had to rule out telling Marlene. I rapidly blinked up at the ceiling, my eyes watery. How was I supposed to look Marlene in the eye every day knowing I had information that could save her and her family's life?

 _Merlin, help me._

I could try and get a message to the Auror Department. But would that letter even end up reaching the Ministry? Letters leaving Hogwarts and letters addressed to Hogwarts students were being intercepted. Would the Aurors even take an anonymous letter seriously? They probably got warnings and death threats all the time. And when the information in the letter is proved true, they'd launch an investigation into the source of the letter and what would I do then? My family and I were already being watched. Like Marlene, they'd be able to put two and two together and realise who the letter had come from.

The last option was Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Whichever method I chose there was a danger it would be traced back to me. There was no way around it - it was just a matter of picking the lesser of two evils. But I had to do it for Marlene. So maybe Dumbledore was the best option. Dumbledore couldn't issue an arrest warrant. Dumbledore couldn't send anyone to Azkaban. Dumbledore would realise how much danger I could be in if the Dark Lord found out that I was an informant. Would Dumbledore betray a student of his to Voldemort or the Auror Department? I wasn't sure, I didn't know him. Maybe he would. But there were so many people who spoke about Dumbledore like he was some kind of god. Maybe he'd take pity on a conflicted seventeen-year-old who only wants to save her best friends life. Maybe he'd help me if he realised I could be useful to him. I have a lot more information that he might be interested in.

(Do I want to be useful to him? Is this the path I want to go down?)

I didn't even know that much about the Order of the Phoenix. All I knew about Dumbledore's secret organisation were little snippets of information I heard from Dad or my brothers. But I did know that the Order had connections in the Auror Department. And I wouldn't be surprised at all if there were McKinnons in the Order, too. Either way, I couldn't imagine Dumbledore receiving information that an entire family was in danger and not doing something about it. He'd tell Thomas McKinnon and Thomas McKinnon would cancel the party and tell all his relatives to be on their guard. Thomas McKinnon would listen to Dumbledore. Why wouldn't he? Anyone would. Maybe even Dumbledore himself would offer to help protect the McKinnons. Maybe the Dark Lord wouldn't go after the McKinnons if he knew they had Dumbledore's protection.

But the idea of walking into the headmaster's office and telling him what I knew scared me. What was I supposed to say? What if someone saw me going into his office and made the connection? What if it got me into trouble? What if it got my family into trouble? I thought back to one of my first ideas – getting an anonymous message to Marlene – maybe I could get the warning to Dumbledore that way? Of course he could figure out who the sender was if he really wanted to, but at least that way there was no concrete proof that I was the informant. How does one get an anonymous letter to Albus Dumbledore?

"It's not down here!" I heard someone shout outside my compartment. I snapped out of my reverie and glanced out into the corridor. A tall, dark-haired figure walked into view and, like every other time I saw him, I felt like my stomach did a little somersault. "Honestly, Wormtail, what in Godric's name possessed you to buy a bloody toad?!"

"It wasn't me, I told you!" said Peter Pettigrew, coming into view. "Mum got it for me for Christmas. She'll kill me if I come back home for the Easter holidays without it."

"We'll just buy a new toad, then. She won't know the difference."

Sirius turned around to walk back up the corridor. Before I could look away our eyes met. I could've sworn his lips turned up into a polite sort of smile, but it was gone in an instant and I wasn't even sure if I'd imagined it or not.

Good, honourable Sirius Black who defied his family and considered 'blood traitor' to be a badge of honour.

 _How does one get an anonymous letter to Albus Dumbledore?_

Maybe with a good, honourable, Gryffindor messenger.

…

By the time the Express reached Hogsmeade Station it was night-time. I stepped off the train and out into the cold January night, making sure I stayed in the middle of the crowd so Marlene and Olive wouldn't see me. I scrambled to get into a carriage with a bunch of third-year Hufflepuffs who did their best to carry on their conversation without paying attention to the stern-faced Slytherin who sat with them. As soon as I got out of the carriage I practically jogged towards the Great Hall.

"Lestrange!"

My heart stopped for a second, thinking it was Marlene, and then I realised that the voice belonged to a male.

"Oh! Hey, Skandar."

Iskandar Shafiq was a fellow seventh-year and a Slytherin. He was short, with a large nose and dark, close together eyes.

"How were your holidays?" he asked.

"They were all right, didn't really get up to anything interesting. How about you?"

"I need to talk to you about something," he blurted out suddenly.

I looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Cousin Lia!"

"Actually, never mind. We'll talk later," Skandar said quickly.

"Cousin Zara!" I replied, grinning. Zara Shacklebolt stood up from her seat at the Slytherin table and we laughingly pretended to kiss each other on the cheek in that snobbish sort of way where you just turned your face towards someone while not actually putting your lips anywhere near the other person's cheek.

Zara Shacklebolt, who most people just called Shack, was very tall and had long Senegalese twists falling over her shoulders. She was Slytherin's star Chaser, the team captain and a prefect. In second year, Zara and I had discovered we were actually distantly related: my great-grandfather Octavian's second wife was Zara's great-great aunt. I couldn't remember how it started, but we'd been calling each other "cousin" in the most pretentious voices we could manage since then.

The Slytherin Quidditch team had stayed behind over the holidays to practice – it'd been Zara's idea. Everyone thought they had a big chance of winning the Cup this year. Apparently, this team was the best one we'd had in years.

"Come on, sit down," Zara said, "Lucian Burke is telling everyone that story about how he accidentally spilt pumpkin juice over the Minister for Magic again."

Ariadne Higgs moved over so there was space for me on the bench. There was a great deal of commotion as everyone coming off the Express grappled to get a good seat. Round faced sixth year Alecto Carrow practically bowled over Marius Macnair so she could sit next to the handsome Cyrus Greengrass. Fellow seventh year Clover Flint was already seated, tapping her fork impatiently against her plate as she waited eagerly for the food. Carina Yaxley reluctantly took a seat next to burly Monroe Bulstrode. Across from me, Severus Snape was having a hushed conversation with Magnus Mulciber and Stellan Avery.

"Lia!" exclaimed Stellan Avery in a surprised tone.

"Stell!" I repeated, grinning.

"Where've you been?" Stellan asked, "I didn't even see you on the platform."

Stellan was the son of my aunt, Lenora Lestrange-Avery; my dad's sister. Stellan had a younger sister named Callisto who was a second year – Callie was a Slytherin as well, of course. Stellan and I didn't look much alike. He was tall where I was short and brown-haired while I was blonde, but we shared that intense, sullen sort of look all us Lestranges seemed to have.

"I found an empty compartment so I just slept the whole way here. You didn't even come looking for me, Stell. My own cousin," I said, shaking my head in mock dismay. "I could've been dead for all you knew."

"Wouldn't that be a shame…" said Carina Yaxley quietly. She fixed a languid gaze onto the candles that hovered above us, as if bored by the entire exchange.

"Careful, Yaxley," warned Stellan.

"What was that, Yaxley? Have you got something to say?" I snapped.

Carina Yaxley only rolled her eyes and turned away as if she was dismissing me and started up a conversation with Albert Runcorn. My fingers curled into fists. Zara Shacklebolt watched me warily.

Carina Yaxley carried herself with all the confidence of someone who was very beautiful and also very aware of that fact. She was tall and slender and had hair the colour of dark chocolate which hung in soft waves past her shoulders. She had arched eyebrows, dark almond-shaped eyes and full lips that were currently curled into a sneer. Yaxley hated me - I could see it on her face. But unfortunately for her, I was a Lestrange and she was only a Yaxley so no one took her side. So she had to settle for snide remarks and backhanded insults, taking every opportunity she could to bring me down in front of others. It hadn't always been like this, though – we'd been friends when we first started Hogwarts together.

When the food finally appeared I hardly noticed – I was too busy imagining what it would be like to hex Carina Yaxley. I could beat her in a duel. I was in the Duelling Club and I practiced almost every day. Even Professor Meadowes (our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who also happened to be an Auror) said I was good.

"Just ignore her," Zara said quietly. "She's not worth it. Just put up with her for a few more months and then you'll never have to see her again."

"If she makes one more comment I'm launching this entire chicken at her," I vowed.

I dumped a ladle full of mashed potatoes onto my plate and it made a loud _splat_ when it hit the plate.

…

The next day was a Sunday so there were no classes. After lunch a bunch of us went down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the team train. I wasn't sure how I'd let myself be persuaded into it – I had a tonne of work to do and it was absolutely freezing outside. When the training session was finally over we were all secretly glad even though no one wanted to admit it. I was still shivering as we made our way back to the common room, desperately clutching a jar of bluebell flames that Skandar Shafiq had conjured.

" _Stop!_ Give it back!" cried a voice.

There was a chorus of laugher in response.

Stellan, who was walking in front of me, abruptly ended his conversation with Magnus Mulciber. "Was that – ?"

" _Stop!_ "

Stellan quickly rounded the corner, drawing his wand.

I hastily followed after him. In the hallway, Callie Avery was encircled by three Gryffindors who had their wands out, Levitating what must be Callie's book bag. Every time she lunged for the bag they sent it flying to another member of the circle, laughing as they did so.

"What do you think you're doing?" bellowed Stellan Avery.

The smiles slid off the faces of the Gryffindors. I wasn't sure what their names were, but I was pretty sure they were fourth years. Two of them quickly lowered their wands when they caught sight of Stellan and the troop of Slytherins he had in tow, while the last Gryffindor, a broad-shouldered blond, determinedly kept his wand pointed at Callie's bag which was still hovering above his head.

I rushed over to Callie, shoving the blond Gryffindor aside.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, sniffling. I wrapped an arm around my cousin's shoulders and walked her back to our group of Slytherins. Stellan was still holding his wand aloft. The expression on his face was one of cold fury. Next to him, Magnus Mulciber was drawing his wand as well, eager for a fight.

"Come on, Cian. Let's go," said one of the Gryffindors quietly, shooting the blond Gryffindor, Cian, an anxious look.

Stellan laughed coldly. "You think you're just gonna run back to your common room after the way you treated my little sister? You think I'm gonna let you go without punishment?"

I didn't understand how the Gryffindors hadn't run off yet. I'd run if Stellan Avery ever looked at me like that – he was terrifying when he was angry. Mulciber wasn't someone I'd pick a fight with either – he towered over everyone and he had arms as thick as tree trunks.

"What's going on here?" said an amused voice from the end of the hallway. " _Ooh_ , a fight. Why didn't anyone invite me?"

It was Sirius Black. He sauntered up towards the group, hands in his pockets, his lips pulled up in an amused sort of smirk, black hair casually falling over his face. I couldn't believe him.

"Here he is," sneered Mulciber, "the blood traitor."

"'Blood traitor'? That's all you've got for me?" grinned Sirius. "You're gonna have to do a bit better than that, Mulciber."

Sirius's eyes scanned the assembled crowd. Our eyes met and he gave me a look as if to say: _Really? These are the people you're siding with?_ I tightened my grip around Callie.

"Get out of the way, Black," spat Stellan, "I've got business with these three."

"Have you now?"

" _Secare_ – !" began Stellan.

But Sirius was quicker. He flicked his wand and Stellan went flying. He soared through the air, hit the stone wall, and landed in a heap on the ground.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" came a shout from the end of the hallway. It was Professor McGonagall. She descended onto the scene, her expression furious. "Detention! Tonight. My office. Seven o' clock."

…

Sirius Black had detention at seven o'clock tonight. This was my opportunity.

I was sitting alone at a table in the library, my quill hovering uncertainly above a piece of parchment. What do I write? What if Sirius doesn't take it to Dumbledore? What if I get in trouble? What if I can't save the McKinnons? What if I can't save _Marlene_?

' _Lord Voldemort is planning an attack on March thirty-first at Thomas McKinnon's birthday party.'_ I wrote. ' _He plans to kill every last McKinnon. Take this message to Dumbledore.'_

I wanted to sign it with my name even though it could get me in trouble. I wanted to show Sirius that I wasn't who I thought he was. I'd changed. I wasn't like _them_ anymore. I tried to ignore the fact that a small part of me just wanted help. Someone to talk to, someone to share this secret with, someone I didn't have to pretend to.

I picked up my quill again and signed it with this name instead: _Archer._ Would Sirius remember who Archer was? Would he remember the game we'd played as kids where I was Auror Archer and he was Auror Savage and we had made-up Dark wizards to catch? I wasn't sure, but there was really only one way to find out.

I cast a Charm to dry the ink and I folded up the piece of parchment until it was a small square I could stuff into the pocket of my school robes. Then, as casually as I could, I gathered up my things and ducked behind a bookshelf near the Restricted section. First, I cast a Charm on my shoes so that I could walk around the castle without making a sound. Then, I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself. I'd done a pretty good job with it but you could definitely still see the outline of my body if you looked closely. I hoped it would be enough. Noiselessly, I left the library.

I couldn't give him the letter in person. I decided that as I silently made my way to Professor McGonagall's office. He might make a scene about it and I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself.

As I rounded the corner, I heard a faint noise that sounded like a shoe scuffing against the stone floor. Like someone had tripped or lost their balance for a second. I quickly whirled around, heart thudding against my chest. I frantically scanned the hallway but there was no one there – it was completely empty. I breathed out in relief. Now I was imagining things. I was so paranoid that my own mind was trying to trick me into thinking there was someone there when there wasn't.

I continued down the hallway, my heart still hammering away. When I reached the corridor Professor McGonagall's office was in I hid behind the corner and waited. It was eight o'clock now so Sirius should be finishing up with detention any minute now.

The heavy wooden door to the office opened and Sirius stepped out.

"I don't want to see you duelling in the hallways again, Mr Black, do you hear?" called McGonagall as the door shut.

Sirius had his back to me as he walked down the corridor, whistling, one hand in his pocket.

I took the folded up note out of my pocket and Levitated it towards Sirius. As soon as the parchment made contact with his free hand I ran.

…

On Monday morning I woke up screaming. I'd dreamt that Lord Voldemort brought me to a dark forest where black-robed figures stood around me in a circle. One of the figures was Rabastan. Lord Voldemort's lips curled around a curse and I looked to my brother for help but he only stared at me with cold blue eyes.

I sat up in bed, my heart still pounding. It was just a dream. It isn't real. Lord Voldemort isn't after you. You're safe.

 _(For now)._

The watch on my wrist told me I didn't need to be up for another hour but I decided to start getting ready for class, anyway – there was no way I was going back to sleep now.

I pulled away the green silk hangings that hung around my four-poster bed and started getting ready for the day. Not one of the other girls had woken up at the sound of me screaming. Clover Flint was still snoring, Ariadne Higgs clutched her pillow as she slept, Zara Shacklebolt was splayed across her bed like a starfish and Carina Yaxley had wrapped herself in so many blankets that only a tuft of dark brown hair was visible. It was nice to know that if someone tried to kidnap me from my dormitory or something these four would just keep on sleeping.

When I finished getting ready I went up to the common room to get some work done before class. I sat at one of the desks, listening to the sound of the lake lapping against the windows and the gentle crackling of the fireplace. I had to face Marlene today. We had History of Magic together first thing and there was no avoiding her – there were only eight of us in the class.

…

"Lestrange!"

I turned around in my seat in Professor Binns's classroom. It was Marlene. She grinned when she saw me and I felt guilt and shame rise up in my throat like bile.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" she asked as she dropped her textbook onto the table next to mine with a loud _thud._

"Around."

Marlene scoffed. "Around where?"

"Well, I was in the common room all day yesterday trying to finish this," I answered, waving the stack of parchment that sat on my desk.

"I didn't even see you on the train!"

"I didn't see you either, I looked for you! Where were you guys sitting?"

"Near the prefect carriage!"

Lies came so easily to me. Other people had decent talents like drawing, writing, singing, flying. What could I do? Lie. Pretend. Hide.

"Well, I didn't see you. It's not my fault if you guys _sequestered_ yourselves somewhere and I couldn't see you."

"No one's used the word 'sequestered' since 1862, Lia."

"Well, I'm bringing it back."

Professor Binns floated into the classroom and took his position in front of the class.

"After dinner a bunch of us Ravenclaws are gonna go up to the library to study. You can join us if you're not too busy skulking around the castle," murmured Marlene.

I rolled my eyes. "I'll be there."

…

After lunch I had a free period so I decided to go down to the dormitory to take a quick nap – the poor sleep I'd had last night was starting to take its toll.

"Oi, Lia!" I heard Skandar Shafiq's voice call. I turned around and waited for him to catch up.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Could you do a favour for me?"

"Depends what it is," I said lightly.

"Hang on," he said quietly, looking around us. "Not here."

I let him direct me into an empty classroom. Skandar quickly closed the door and then stood in front of me, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe.

I folded my arms over my chest and waited for him to speak.

"All right, I'm just gonna say it. I want to ask Shack out to Hogsmeade."

"Okay…and why are you telling me this?"

"Well, you're her friend, right? So I was thinking… could you maybe sort of talk to her? See if she's interested. I won't ask her out if she's not."

"Why don't you just ask Clover Flint? She's her best friend, she probably knows her better than I do."

"I can't ask _Clover_! Come on, Lestrange, you know what she's like."

Clover Flint was a nice girl, but she had the subtlety of a sledgehammer. I could imagine her walking into the common room and shouting: "SHACK! SHAFIQ'S GONNA ASK YOU OUT TO HOGSMEADE!"

"Look, I don't know…" I said uncertainly.

"Come on, Lestrange," Skandar pleaded, his dark eyes sincere. "I'll owe you. I'll do whatever you want to pay you back. Even if you murdered someone and you wanted help hiding the body I'd do it."

I rolled my eyes. "All right, all right, I'll do it."

"Lestrange, I love you. I'll even push Carina Yaxley off the Astronomy Tower if you want."

I laughed and rolled my eyes again. "I said I'd do it – now go! You're supposed to be at Potions right now!"

Skandar hurried out of the empty classroom. "Thanks again, Lia! I owe you!"

I shook my head, smiling, and continued towards the common room. I should've seen this coming - Skandar always seemed to be following Zara around, hanging on her every word. But then again, Zara Shacklebolt was a popular girl – most of Slytherin hung on her every word as well as big portion of the rest of the student body.

I walked into the dormitory and put my bag down. I looked at my bed. Across the headboard in big, bright red letters was the word ' _TRAITOR'_.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi again! Sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out I've just been so busy lately and I've hardly had any time to write :( I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far – I really appreciate it and your support means a lot! Hopefully I'll have chapter three ready for you guys soon :)_

 _Take care!_


	3. Chapter 3: Monday

_A/N: Hi guys! Just wanted to quickly say thanks for all your support so far! And also I'm really sorry about how long it's taken to get this chapter out. I've been super busy this past month or so but I should have a lot more free time now so hopefully I'll be able to finish chapter four soon._

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter and please leave me a review to let me know what you think of it! :)_

 _Take care x_

* * *

 **Re-cap** : Lia chooses to tell Dumbledore about Voldemort's plan to attack the McKinnons at Thomas McKinnon's (Marlene's dad) birthday party. At Hogwarts, Lia has a little altercation with Carina Yaxley over dinner and she decides to take Zara Shacklebolt's advice and not let herself be provoked into a fight. Callie Avery gets bullied by a group of fourth-year Gryffindors and when Stellan Avery steps in to punish the Gryffindors he gets hit by a hex from Sirius Black. Lia writes a note detailing the plan against the McKinnons and signs it off with the name Archer (a reference to a game she and Sirius used to play as kids called Archer and Savage wherein they pretended to be Auror Archer and Auror Savage). She hands the note to Sirius on his way out of detention. The next day, Skandar Shafiq asks Lia to ask Zara whether she'd be interested in going to Hogsmeade with him and Lia agrees to do it. Lia goes back to her dormitory during her free period and finds that someone has written "TRAITOR" on her headboard of her bed.

* * *

\- III -

 _Monday_

* * *

"Who's in here?" I demanded. I held my wand in front of me, my hands shaking.

There was no response. No movement. All I could hear was the sound of the Black Lake gently lapping against the windows and the distant sound of students moving about the castle.

My bag of toiletries was upturned on my bed, its contents strewn all over the emerald green quilt. One of my red lipsticks was on the ground, its top snapped in half. I glanced again at the blood red letters that called me a traitor and picked the lipstick up off the ground. This must be what they'd used.

I began frantically moving around the room, checking under all the beds, pulling off all the blankets, opening and closing drawers, ripping open curtains. I burst into the bathroom and checked every stall and almost tore off the hinges of the cabinets. But there was no one here and they'd left no trace of themselves.

The empty dormitory suddenly seemed so cold and cavernous. I felt small and weak and exposed. I felt like somebody was watching me, laughing. I'd never felt this afraid in my life. I was trembling, my heart thumping wildly, sweat glistening on my forehead.

Why? _Who?_ What did they see? What did they know? Who are they going to tell?

…

I stared blankly at the diagram Professor McGonagall had drawn on the board. McGonagall was talking, explaining something, tapping the blackboard with her wand to emphasise her point. Someone might as well have cast a Silencing Charm on her for all I heard of her lecture.

All I could think about was what I'd seen in my dormitory only an hour ago. _Traitor._ That word was all I could see, like it'd been burnt onto the backs of my eyelids. Blood red letters. Accusing, threatening.

"Miss Lestrange?"

Someone had been through my things. Someone wants to frighten me, someone's enjoying this.

"Miss Lestrange?"

What do they plan to do with the information? What information did they even have? Had they only seen me passing a note to Sirius Black and assumed the worst? Did they see what I'd written in the note? But how could they have seen what I'd written? What if _Sirius_ had told someone? What if they didn't know anything about the note and only suspected that I was a blood-traitor?

"Miss _Lestrange_."

I was abruptly pulled from my train of thought to find that McGonagall, as well as everyone else in the classroom, was staring at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't hear the question," I mumbled, my cheeks growing hot.

McGonagall looked irate. "I asked you, why does Fiendfyre withstand the effects of general Untransfiguration spells?"

"I don't know, Professor," I muttered, looking down.

"Perhaps you would if you paid attention."

A few students sniggered as McGonagall turned back to the blackboard.

Olive, who was sitting next to me, nudged me. "Are you okay?" she whispered, her eyes wide behind her thick glasses.

I nodded and picked up my quill. I hadn't taken a single note the whole lesson.

…

After Transfiguration Olive, Marlene and I made our way to Charms class together.

"Everything all right, Lestrange?" Marlene asked, nudging me playfully.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, shooting Marlene a reassuring smile. "Just tired."

Olive rifled through her bag and produced her Transfiguration notes. She tapped them with her wand and handed me a copy.

"Thanks, Olive," I said gratefully.

"It was really unfair of McGonagall to single you out like that," Olive said. "I mean, we don't even start the chapter on transfigurations that can't be untransfigurated 'till next week!"

"She's probably just targeting me because I'm a Slytherin," I said, smirking. "She knows we're winning the Quidditch Cup this year and she can't stand it!"

Marlene scoffed. "In your dreams! It's Ravenclaw's this year," she said proudly. (Marlene was a Chaser on the team and a very good one at that.)

I shook my head. "You poor little things… you're gonna get absolutely _destroyed_ when we play you in a few weeks time. Murdered. Slaughtered. _Crushed_."

"You know what, Lia? I'm pushing you into the Venomous Tentacula as soon as we get into Herbology tomorrow morning," Marlene vowed.

…

When I sat down for dinner that day I realised I had absolutely no appetite. I felt sick. I felt jumpy and nervous and somehow utterly exhausted at the same time. All day, I'd been trying my best to look normal. To pretend like nothing's happened, to not give whoever was blackmailing me the satisfaction. But it was getting harder and harder to do. All day my mind ran in circles but all the running my thoughts did led to nothing – they all lead to a dead end.

 _Who? Why? How?_

 _Who? Why? How?_

The day was drawing to a close – surely whoever was blackmailing me would make themselves known soon. And Sirius. Why hadn't I heard anything from him yet?

I couldn't stand sitting there any longer.

"Where are you going?" asked Zara, tearing herself away from a conversation about the new Chaser Puddlemere United had signed.

"I'm not hungry," I answered quietly.

I walked quickly out of the Great Hall and out into the corridor. A group of fifth year Slytherin girls were walking in the opposite direction to me, heading for the Great Hall. Carina Yaxley walked in the middle of the pack like she was some kind of queen bee, imperiously leading the little younglings. I rolled my eyes.

Then I noticed that Yaxley was wearing bright red lipstick and I froze.

"What are you staring at, Lestrange?" said Yaxley scornfully.

"You!" I accused. "It was you. _Of course_ it was you."

"What are you talking about, Lestrange?"

"You think you're _so_ funny, don't you?" I spat. "Going through my things, writing on my bed, wearing that lipstick."

"Listen, Lestrange. I don't know what the fuck you're on about, but I'm gonna go inside and have my dinner instead of standing here listening to you raving like a lunatic."

She turned around to leave, flipping her glossy dark hair over her shoulder. That did it for me.

I quickly whipped out my wand and pointed it at her retreating figure. With a non-verbal _'everte statum'_ Yaxley soared through the air, slammed face-first into the wall and landed roughly on the ground.

A few of the fifth year girls shrieked. Two of the girls made for the Great Hall, shouting about getting a teacher.

"What's _wrong_ with you?" screeched one of the girls, running over to help Yaxley up. "She hasn't done anything to you!"

"Yes, she has!" I spat. "Just admit it, Yaxley! I know it was you!"

Yaxley righted herself, a large graze on her forehead bright with blood, the same colour as the lipstick she wore, the same colour as the writing on my headboard.

She plunged her hand into the pocket of her robe for her wand. Before she could get it out, I sent a Stinging Jinx her way. She yelped, clapping a hand over the bright pink welt that now marred the porcelain skin of her cheek. I cast another one, then one more, and then I blocked a hex she sent my way once she'd finally managed to retrieve her wand.

"Just admit it!" I snapped.

"Admit _what?_ I haven't done anything, you freak!"

I stormed over to her and shoved her roughly – and that's when the melee began. I wasn't sure what happened after that – there was hair-pulling, punching, scratching, kicking, a slap across my face and then a backhand across hers. The last thing I saw was Professor Slughorn hurrying into view and the satisfied smirk of one of the fifth year girls as she hit me with a Stunning Spell.

…

"I must say, Miss Lestrange. I did not expect this of you," Professor Slughorn said quietly, his words laced with disappointment. "While it is a serious offence to go through another student's belongings, it does not give you the right to attack another student."

If only he knew the full story.

"And as we established earlier, you had no proof Miss Yaxley was the culprit! She was sitting in Potions right in front of me when you noticed someone had been through your things."

I stared at the ground with nothing to say. He was right. I had no proof and it'd been wrong of me to attack Yaxley. I couldn't explain what'd come over me. And now that I thought it about it properly, Yaxley wouldn't do such a thing, anyway. If Yaxley had information on me she'd announce it to the whole school as soon as she could – anything to make me lose face in front of the other Slytherins. (Her wish had come true because now half the school thinks I'm a deranged psycho who randomly attacks people.) Torturing me psychologically was not her style at all.

"You'll have two weeks of detention and I shall have to send a letter home to your parents, of course. Dear old Claudius won't be happy to receive the news, I daresay. Your father was never one for brawls."

The subtle little insult stung. I wasn't like my honourable, quietly formidable father. Nor was I as dutiful and intelligent as Rodolphus or as charismatic and talented as Rabastan. Slughorn had always made that clear to me. He briefly showed interest me in first year but once he realised that I was awful at Potions and entirely unremarkable in general he lost interest and the Slug Club invitations dried up.

"Very well, Miss Lestrange. You may go."

I turned around and made for the door without saying anything. What was there to say? I couldn't defend myself. I was in the wrong. I'd acted impulsively. I'd acted out of fear. I'd jumped to conclusions and made an idiot out of myself in the process. And as much as I hated Carina Yaxley she didn't deserve to be slammed face first into a stone wall for no reason.

I closed the door of Slughorn's office behind me. Yaxley was leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest, waiting for her turn to be told off by Slughorn.

" _Bitch_ ," she spat.

I continued down the corridor. What was the point of reacting? I'd already done enough damage for one day.

That's when I felt a folded up piece of parchment press against my palm. I instantly curled my fingers around it. _Sirius?_

…

I walked quickly through the common room, eager to find somewhere private where I could open the note. I pretended not to notice the curious, cautious and accusatory stares I received from the other Slytherins.

"Iheard from Nancy Fincher that she just ran at Yaxley and head-butted her!"

"No way! Was Nancy there?"

"No, but she heard it from Lucian Burke who heard it from Freya Rowle who was there."

On any other day I might have stopped to confront those who stared or blatantly spread rumours about me but today I didn't care – my sole focus was the note.

I hurried down the stairs and burst into the dormitory which was thankfully empty (and thankfully devoid of any new graffiti accusing me of treachery).

I climbed onto my bed and pulled at the silk hangings, enclosing myself in a kind of emerald green cocoon. With trembling hands I unfolded the note.

 _Meet me on the seventh floor corridor near the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy at one o'clock tonight._

 _Savage_

…

I checked my watch: It was a quarter to one in the morning – it was time to go.

Disillusionment Charm in place, I slowly began to creep across the dormitory, praying to Merlin, Circe, Cliodna, Morgana, Salazar Slytherin – anyone who was out there – that my dorm mates stayed asleep.

I let out a relieved breath as I quietly closed the dormitory door behind me. After that, it took me ages to get up to the common room – the staircase was pitch black so I had to carefully take one step at a time unless I wanted to wake up the whole castle by tumbling down multiple flights of stairs.

I paused at the entrance to the common room, hiding myself behind the wall, thoroughly scanning the common room. I had my wand at the ready, prepared to Stun anyone if necessary – I wasn't taking any chances; if someone caught me sneaking out after curfew to meet with Sirius Black I was finished.

The common room, thankfully, was empty. I carefully crept out of the common room and out into the hallway.

I'd never walked around the castle after curfew before. The fear of getting caught by a teacher or a prefect made my heartbeat quicken. This was the second day in a row that I was sneaking around the castle. Earlier today I'd physically attacked another student and now I was secretly meeting with Sirius Black to discuss my betrayal of Lord Voldemort. Who even was I anymore?

 _Why in Merlin's name are we meeting on the seventh floor?_ I wondered, panting as I climbed yet another staircase. _Classic Sirius Black – probably took him two minutes to walk from Gryffindor Tower to the seventh floor while I have to trek all the way from the Dungeons to the highest floor of an enormous bloody castle in the middle of winter._

I stood near the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy, staring down a dark, empty hallway. Where was he?

A disembodied hand suddenly appeared out of thin air and grabbed me by the forearm. I yelped in surprise before I could stop myself.

" _Shh!_ Follow me," whispered Sirius. I followed after Sirius, who was somehow completely invisible save for his hand, and watched as he pushed open a door that had definitely not been there before.

"What is this place?" I breathed. The room was well lit and warm with a crackling fireplace, sofas adorned with plump red cushions, a patterned rug and a mahogany coffee table that was littered with bits of parchment, sweet wrappers and bottles of Butterbeer. It looked like a cosy little lounge room. How was this possible?!

"The Room of Requirement."

"What's the Room of Requirement?"

He didn't reply.

We stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. It felt like there were a thousand things we both wanted to say to each other, but the words never came out and instead they hung over us like a thick storm cloud, dark and threatening.

I looked into his eyes, grey and striking, and found I couldn't read them at all. Uncertainty, however, was an emotion that seemed to roll off him in waves – I could see it in his eyes, on his face and in his posture. He didn't know what to think of me. He didn't know whether he should shout at me or smile at me and truthfully, I felt the same way about him.

"Did you take my message to Dumbledore?"

He nodded. "I didn't tell him it was you, if that's what you're worried about. But it's Dumbledore so he'll probably figure it out soon, anyway."

"And? Did he tell the McKinnons?" I pressed.

"He Floo'd over to Thomas McKinnon's house as soon as I gave him the note. They're cancelling the party, but they're still in a lot of danger. Especially when You-Know-Who finds out that the McKinnons know they're targets. Dumbledore said he'd – "

He stopped speaking suddenly and looked away. Dumbledore said he'd do what?

I knew why he wouldn't tell me - he didn't trust me.

"Will the Order protect them?" I probed. "Are they safe for now?"

"I don't know," he said. _Yes, you do._

I'd thought that after getting the message to Dumbledore I'd feel as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but instead only new anxieties and fears flooded in. What if I'd only made it worse? The Dark Lord would surely be furious once he found out that someone had betrayed his plans. What would happen if he turned that fury onto the McKinnons? What would happen if he eventually turned that fury onto _me_?

I stared at the ground uncomfortably. "Thanks for taking the message to Dumbledore, you - "

"I didn't do it for _you_!" he snapped suddenly.

"I never said it was for me!" I snapped back, feeling like I'd just been slapped.

"Wasn't it?" he said, grey eyes flashing. "Tell me. If you weren't friends with Marlene McKinnon would you still have given me the note?"

My jaw dropped. "It wasn't just because of Marlene!"

"You're a liar, Lestrange."

"Don't call me a liar! You don't know anything about me!" I shouted.

He laughed mirthlessly, his handsome features contorted into a sneer. "All right, then. So, next time you end up with information that could save someone you're going to share it?"

"It's not that simple!" I retorted. "It's not like they told me any of this! I _overheard_ that there was a plan against the McKinnons. They had no idea I was even there!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm gonna ask you the question again and I only want a simple yes or no answer. The next time you get information are you going to share it?"

I hesitated. I thought of Rodolphus who'd taught me to ride a broom. I thought of Rabastan who made jokes just to cheer me up, Dad who used to tell me stories every night before bed and Mum who cried every time one of us left for Hogwarts.

Sirius shot me a look of pure revulsion. "You're disgusting," he said. "You'd let innocent people die just to protect your family? Your family are monsters! Haven't you realised that yet?! You're a coward, Lestrange. You're a slimy, disgusting little coward."


End file.
